


i don't love you but i always will

by awilliamson81



Category: Veep (TV)
Genre: Denial of Feelings, F/M, Friendship/Love, Love/Hate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 09:30:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17895932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awilliamson81/pseuds/awilliamson81
Summary: She gladly punctured her own vein to let him seep into her blood like the poison he is. She's come to terms with liking her blood spoiled.If you ask him to name his favorite person and told him he can't say himself, then the answer would be Amy fucking Brookheimer.





	1. She

She's never smoked cigarettes or done cocaine. She never tried Ecstasy (or Molly, as the kids call it nowadays) when everyone and their fucktard uncle-stepdad thought that would be a good idea.

But she has fucked Dan Egan. Admittedly, not a good idea.

She's also dated him, danced with him, (literally) slept with him, eaten, gotten drunk, lied, celebrated, commiserated, napped, exchanged house keys, and done every other fucking thing aside from commit homicide (not _yet_ ) with him.

She's not addicted to him. She's _NOT_.

But she has gladly punctured her own vein to let him seep into her blood like the poison he is. She's come to terms with liking her blood spoiled.

Maybe _gladly_ isn't the right word. Reluctantly is more like it, but in a... happy, glutton-for-punishment, sort of way.  
_______

She'll never admit to anyone but herself (and even then it's a hazy, wobbly line of thought at the edge of her brain) that she craves his undivided attention. She gets slightly petulant if he goes too long without giving it to her.

She gets off on the fact that he's never more than 10 feet away from her if they're in the same building, 3 feet if they're in the same room. He sits next to her almost always (when it's his choice) and has never once used the word "shrill" to describe her. He'll use many other colorful, indecent, degrading, and downright mean words when necessary, but never _shrill_.

He'll only ever point out that she's _tense_.

It thrills her on all the levels that she communicates better with him through facial expressions than she ever has verbally with any other person.

Of course, she doesn't have to tell him any of this and won't. He _knows_. His knowledge of her and what his _presence_ does to her makes her feel... some kind of way. (She suspects he gets off on it too).  
_______

She is fascinated by his neck. Maybe because it’s closer to her direct eyeline when she’s wearing heels (always) than his stupid pretty face. The back of his neck does things to her she would rather not admit in this lifetime where he could possibly learn the information and somehow destroy her with it. The line of his hair against his freckled skin is just... weird kink, but okay.

Also, he has this fucking freckle on his bottom lip that hypnotizes her. He’s arrogant enough to think she’s staring at his mouth, his lips, because she’s thinking about kissing him or some awful shit, but no. She zeroes in on that freckle and watches it bounce when he’s speaking. It’s oddly humanizing (robots don’t have freckles). She fantasizes about using that dumbass freckle as a target for her fist one day.

His hands distract her at times, if she’s being completely honest. They aren’t rugged and worked, but soft and strong. She has, on occasion, let her mind wander to all the _places_ those hands have been and she hates him for it. Hates it even more that she hasn’t felt enough of them.  
_______

He made her his partner when she wasn't looking. It's as if he pointed out her shoe was untied and he lassoed her with some invisible tether while she was bent to correct it. Only, none of her shoes have laces and he's not that polite.

She can admit he’s smart and (kind of) good at what he does. He’s a perfect 10 when it comes to being a total shit, but the work part is good too. He’s not as good as she is, but he has his strengths. He can string words together to pass as… something. He’s strategic and she _likes_ that. He’s calculating and it’s (attractive)... it’s a terrible quality in most humans, but he’s not human and their line of work requires them to think many steps ahead. He thinks on his feet which is necessary and he knows how to work people, especially women. Well, the women he hasn’t already worked. (It gets harder and harder to dodge them).

She even sometimes enjoys taking the backseat to witness him have a moment. It’s cute how he thinks he’s a real person.  
_______

It's not even like he's miraculous in bed. He didn't make love (hard cringe) to her. He didn't rock her world in a way that is only written about by women.

But he did, somehow, ruin her for all other men. (Not his conscious intent, she assumes). She compares any romantic prospect to him and they'll never live up to him because they're all _attainable_.

She could date. She could wine, dine, and sixty-nine a new suit with a haircut every week. She receives enough offers, is acutely aware of the looks she receives. But she doesn't and won't. She tried with Ed and that was a steaming pile of failure. Besides, none of them _get_ her the way he does.

It's all so exhausting anyway.  
_______

Ed hated him. She kind of hated Ed.

Ed was passive aggressive and she fucking hates that pansy ass shit. He used to make half-hearted comments about her relationship with Dan any chance he got and really… it got tiresome. He would get mad at her for answering Dan’s texts or phone calls during Game of Thrones or breakfast or sex (when she picked up with a “WHAT?!” he asked if he was interrupting anything in that _knowing_ way of his. He was impossible for a solid week after).

OK, she can see how pausing sex to answer Dan’s call might not be a respectful move, but to her credit some historical shit might have been going down and you can’t wait for your boyfriend to unload in you before attending to, you know, possible country-collapsing shit.

Ed didn’t see it that way.

He didn’t see it that way when she would answer her door for Dan at anytime or be his plus one (they don’t use the word date because reasons) to various networking events. He especially didn’t see it that way when she was his plus one to a college friend’s wedding, but “wouldn’t even give up an evening to meet his friends.”

Whatever, he was whiny as shit.

And Dan didn’t make it better. He knew when she would be with Ed and he chose those times to make his occupancy in her life well known. She may also be at fault because she allowed his behavior.

She always does. (And always will).  
_______

She had a woman approach her once and tell her she was Amy Brookheimer. Declared it like Amy had fallen and hit her head on something hard enough to not know her own fucking name.

“You’re the reason Dan Egan doesn’t let women stay the night.”

“I’m not sure what you-“

“He made it very clear there’s only one woman allowed to sleep over and it ain’t me. It’s like, common knowledge that if you fuck him, you better have an escape plan.” Amy grimaces because this woman probably votes and she’s sure her only two brain cells are exhausted after forming those two sentences.

She forces a chuckle, “I’m positive he’s referring to his sister.”

Dan doesn’t have a sister

Whatever, she sleeps there on occasion for various reasons, mostly work-related.

It started the night she slept there when he wasn’t even home. It was a rare occasion for her to be out drinking with people she hadn’t seen in years and when she called him to ask if she could come over (she was closer to his apartment than her house) he explained he wasn’t there but she was welcome to have his bed.

She was irrationally irritated with him for not being where she wanted him to be at that moment, mostly because she knew he was in another woman’s bed. But also, like, how dare he not comply with her expectations? Fucking pain in her ass.

She showered in his shower, dressed in his clothes, and tucked herself into his bed. Pathetic? **_NO_**. No, she wanted to be there when he got home to antagonize him. He would want to come home to his near-sterile apartment and recharge his battery, but she would be there to fuck it up because _fuck_ him.

When he arrived the next morning, he was… not as vexed as she thought he might be.

He teased her for a good month after, but there was a different _tone_ to his quips.  
_______

Visually, he's pleasing. The other thing, the opposite of visually, he's a goddamn shitstack of a pseudo-human and she... fuck her for living, she _relies_ on that. Lives it, breathes it, sets her watch to it. She can always, _always_ count on him to be the walking, talking, scheming pile of dildos she knows and doesn't love (but always will).

There's something _very_ wrong with her. She's accepted it. (He has too).

And that's the thing. When she was (oh so) much younger, she thought she was a better person than him in so many ways.

After the back-breaking, soul-crushing kind of time she's spent with him (planes, trains, automobiles, and their stationary distant cousin the motel room) it has finally made some damn sense to her; he makes her feel better about being her own patented brand of asshole. He makes her feel better about who she is in the most torturously fucked up way possible.

He's taught her (directly and indirectly) to not give a flying fuck about anyone that isn't her (or him).  
_______

She has no delusions anymore about the white picket fence and the 2.5 kids. She was not made for the perfect little life as the perfect little wife. Susie HomeMaker, she is _not_.

If her life stays on this trajectory, if it keeps trudging along this broken path, she will end up living alone forever which doesn’t scare her as much as it used to. She’s gotten to know people more now that she’s older and… they all fucking suck in one way or another. She supposes finding someone that is the correct variety of suck is the key. Someone who is okay with her being… well, _her_. Cold at times, career-obsessed, and emotionally walled-off.

She sees it, okay. She _gets_ it.

She’ll probably marry Dan _fucking_ Egan.


	2. He

He doesn't get attached to places, people, or things. Everyone and everything is expendable.    
  
Almost.   
  
He doesn’t get addicted to anything and never has. (Unless you count any and all things pertaining to himself). Addiction is for the weak minded (like Mike). If,  _ if _ he found himself feeling that (un)familiar itch behind his eyes and under his skin, he would cut that shit off immediately – regardless of the source. That’s what he tells himself.

He’s’ a liar. 

Because he’s still finding ways to be in her orbit. 

_______

 

He's made it abundantly clear to all that know him and even those that don't,  _ he's _ his favorite person.    
  
But if you ask him to name his favorite person and told him he can't say himself, then the answer would be Amy fucking Brookheimer. Unless the person asking is also signing his paycheck. Then his favorite person (besides himself) is that person.    
  
He's done things with her that he has never and will never do with another woman.    
  
They've traveled the world, slept on trains, missed flights and got airport drunk (they decided it's a thing), been caught in the rain, battled congressmen, gotten lost, started rumors, climbed out windows, and they've done it all and then some,  _ together _ .    
  
He's not simple enough to entertain the idea that he  _ loves _ her. Love is pedestrian. It's for peasants and he,  _ they _ , are no peasants. He understands the concept, of course, but feeling love is simply not for him. (He suspects if he was capable then maybe he could feel it for her).   
  
What he and Amy have is better. It's bolder, more  _ robust _ (fuck you). And not love at all. Love is Hallmark. Dan and Amy are…the complete fucking opposite of that Podunk, sap-fueled bullshit.    
  
He's not sure how, when, or why it happened, but there it fucking is. His favorite person (besides himself) is a midget blonde with shoulders up to her ears, a mouth that could melt steel, and an ass that just will not fucking quit (he’s tried).  

_______   
  
She dropped into his life without fireworks or fanfare. No bells and whistles, only blue eyes and blonde hair. 

She approached him and asked if she was at the correct building to see Whogivesafuck. He would normally smirk (because she's cute) and take his time with an answer (because she’s  _ cute _ ), but that didn't happen. She looked at him expectantly and he... didn't say anything. He just stared like a slack-jawed mouth breather until she snapped her fingers in his face. She snapped her fingers in his fucking  _ face _ (Who the fuck does that?)   
  
He wasn't struck by her beauty or some silly ass nonsense. His brain just... stopped. He doesn't believe in universe bullshit and planets aligning. He simply didn't have an answer to her question because he didn't know the guy she was looking for and his mouth wouldn't connect to his motherfucking brain.    
  
(He asked her out when she came back a week later for a follow up meeting. She turned him down.)

_______   
  
He likes (loves) her quirks.    
  
Not in a "she hates these things about herself and he loves them," vomit inducing, rom-com sort of way. No, he finds himself  _ comforted _ by her... weirdness. He likes knowing he can spot her ticks and sense her moods because he knows her better than the under-evolved shapeless lumps they work with. It makes him feel (even more) superior to be  _ so _ tuned to her.   
  
The way she holds her wrists at 90 degree angles when she's particularly tense, the way her head shakes and jerks like she has a disorder when her blood pressure rises during a heated debate, or the way she puffs her nose out and looks like Miss Piggy when she's swallowing her pride or an insult. None of them graceful or attractive. They aren’t endearing or cute, but he's not sure what he would do without them and doesn’t want to learn anytime soon.  

_______   
  
Working with her has been what gets him out of bed some days. (It’s a surprise for him too). Fuck any of your vices (you feeble -willed bottom feeders), he'll  _ gladly _ binge her. Watching her go toe to toe with old white men is a drug (not addictive – fuck you and your mother). He used to find endless amusement when he played audience to her tough female amongst powerful men act. 

He was younger then, but now… now he  _ knows _ . He’s not worthy and neither are any of them. Not to share the same space as her because that shit is not an act. Sure, she’s hardened, but she was built to tell spindly dick, donor fuckers exactly which condo is waiting for them in hell (Florida). 

It’s the cold bitch in her that gets him running hot.

_______   
  
Fucking her was okay. It felt  _ off _ . Not bad, just... whatever. It happened. 

When he thinks about it now, he knows he could have done better but something wasn't right about that night from the beginning. All of the pieces were there but it's like they weren't fitting together correctly. 

No, that’s not… they, he  _ fit _ . It was just…it was as if he couldn’t go through the motions as usual. It really freaked him the fuck out. Like he left all his mojo outside the door of his apartment when they arrived. He was acting like a goddamn virgin and fumbling all over himself and her. He literally tripped while he was walking her backwards to his bed. 

They fell asleep after and he woke up with her there next to him.    
  
(He ended it a couple days later. He asked her out for coffee instead of sending a text).

_______

Every woman he’s been with since he’s started working with her has heard her name. From him. Repeatedly. Not by accident during the throes of passion (does anyone actually do that?) He can always be counted on to find ways to bring her up in conversation (subconsciously, of course). His family notices, his co-workers do not. Some of the women that he used for extended periods of time made it clear they didn’t like hearing her name so much. Or seeing her around so much. Or seeing pictures of them looking so “chummy” in magazines and papers so much.

Ask him if he gives a fuck.

And if he pictures her sometimes when he’s doing some of his better work, sue him. There are a lot of blondes and she’s just one of them. From behind, when he squints, it’s almost like he’s getting away with it. But the noises… they’re never the same. 

_______   
  


He’s minding his own business, drinking the grey of the day away when a guy steps up to the bar right next to him. He looks familiar and it is DC so they’ve most likely crossed paths. He doesn’t have time to figure out how he knows him before the guy turns to him and says his name in the form of a question.

“Dan Egan?” It always gives him a thrill when people know his name. 

“In the flesh.”

“You work with the blonde that sucks Meyer’s ass.” He presses his lips together. This sentiment isn’t new. Everyone knows Amy and her undying, unwarranted loyalty to Selina Meyer. He’s not in the mood for this to go the way he thinks this will go.

“I do.” He nods once. 

“What’s her deal?” What are they, in college? Her  _ deal _ ? He doesn’t even know where to begin so he goes with the old standard.

“She’s as frigid as they say. More so, actually.” And it’s true, she is. He’s not about to scare some guy off her scent just because he doesn’t like sharing. He’s perfectly fine with the parade of losers he’s seen come and go. Admittedly, it hasn’t been many and obviously none of them will last. It’s entertainment for him and only a little bothersome. Like, 95/5. (50/50).

He’s not her gatekeeper. She can fuck off with whatever floppy wanna-be grownup she chooses because like he’s said before and will say again: they never last. You know why?  _ Him _ . Dan Egan, that’s why. Or maybe her career obsession or something.

(The thought of her finding someone and looking at them the way she looks at him has  _ maybe _ crossed his mind while he’s lying awake at night).

_______

  
Everyone around them thinks they compete. They don't. What they do is...  _ dance _ . Sometimes it’s fast and sometimes it’s slow but make no mistake, they are waltzing their asses all over DC and beyond.

It’s been like this with them from day one of working together. He leads, she scurries after him questioning his every move. She leads, he learns to swallow his pride and follow. He’s found that following her takes him to places he wouldn’t have found by himself. 

He’s smart enough to know she’s smarter than him. He’s not stupid enough to tell her. 

He’ll tell her she’s doing a great job because he knows she thinks he’s being condescending. He’s not. But he likes that she never knows if his compliments are real or meant to get into her head. So either way, he’s in her head. She should be charging him rent because honestly, he fucking lives there and they both know it. Plant a fucking flag in that grey matter because it’s Danland. 

_______

 

No one tolerates him the way she does. No one gives as well as takes with him the way she does. No one can call him on his bullshit faster and more accurately the way she does. Not one other person can fully comprehend the rivers of shit they have trudged through together. (The VP literally shit herself in the limo with them). No one, _ no one _ accepts him fully, completely as he is and still  _ respects  _ him the way she does. She won’t ever say it and he never expects her to tell him. She doesn’t have to. He  _ knows _ . 

He’s hitched his wagon to her star because the only way he’s ever truly felt successfully whole is working alongside her. She’s his first call when he succeeds and his first call when he fails. And she’s always there either way. He doesn’t know if she knows it, but it’s inevitable.

He’ll probably marry Amy fucking Brookheimer.


End file.
